We Heart It
I’ve been feeling a little detached lately. It’s my word of the moment. Detached from school, detached from my blog (detached from my writing in general, really), detached from social media, even detached from myself. What’s punctured my spirits most, though, is the detachment I’ve felt from my writing. It’s horrible really. If my writing were my husband, then I’d be the bad guy. I’d be the woman who fell out of the relationship onto a hard rock, who proceeded to question everything about herself and her life. I expect I’m just having a moment’s insecurity; I expect it to bid me adieu any day now for I do not enjoy this feeling, and I would like to look at my husband again with that twinkle in my eye, like Dumbledore with his half-moon spectacles.
I wandered through the aisles of Target on my lunch break Friday, sucking down a tall strawberries & creme drink, brushing my hands along curtains and throw pillows, and seriously considering buying a green welcome mat to put outside my door. I already have one, sure, but this one looked more “me,” and it was on clearance for $10. I take these Target strolls when I’m feeling particularly dour. It helps me clear my mind. I stood in the middle of the rug aisle feeling completely serene. There were voices and people walking around me, but on that aisle I was alone with my thoughts, alone with God.
As someone who resents loneliness these days, my time in the middle of the rug aisle was oddly comforting. I slurped up another mouthful of strawberries and creme, tipped back my head to look at a rug, and felt…peace. It wasn’t so much that I was in the middle of a random aisle in Target ogling pretty things to buy, it’s that I was focusing all of my energy on that moment. I wasn’t concerned with school or work or whether or not my online presence was up to snuff. I was concerned with my mental and spiritual health, and feeling close to God. It wasn’t about hunting something to buy, it was about getting away from the world.
I’ve felt like my life has been so clogged up lately, and it’s making it hard for me to maneuver what was once familiar territory. Maybe it’s graduation looming over my head, but I feel like it’s something more. Back in high school, I went through a spiritual battle. I was just finding my faith again, and morose feelings just seemed to pour over me. I couldn’t find a happy ground to tread, and things got worse before they got better. That’s what this feels like now, and I maintain that my issue may still be complacency. Honestly, I think I need to take a page from Kathryn Stockett’s book, make like Aibileen, and write all of my prayers in a journal. For me, it doesn’t need to sound or read like formal prayer, but (are you ready for my new word of the day/week/month/year?) I need to practice putting all of my focus on my writing as prayer.
It struck me that, for a spiritual person, I don’t do a lot of praying, and that is the number one way to foster a relationship with God. I need to focus my writing energies on Him, always (am I the only one who just read that with Snape’s voice in mind?). Anytime I write, whether it’s personal, academic, social, or professional, I need to remember who planted the seed to begin with. Perhaps that will help me get that Dumbledore twinkle back in my eye.
